Mania
by Faba
Summary: Fang's world is dying. He's confused, shocked and unable to trust that his own family understands what really happened. Will he be able to prove he still loves them? First person.
1. Chapter 1

I was stuck.

Life had suddenly turned upside down—for the worse. And, sitting here, watching Max from across the room . . . it was painful. Like I was posed, sitting on a tack, but unable to get up. And that's not just to say that Max is a pain in the butt.

I was stuck in the middle. Or maybe I was stuck on the outside this time. I wasn't sure.

Seriously, I've been upset before, but never like this; just the thought that, this time, Max might truly hate me, burned inside desperately. I couldn't even allow myself to make eye contact with_ anyone_from my family. Normally, Angel or Gazzy would come to me for comfort, as well as Max, but, tonight, everyone was huddled against Max, and I was left to stare into the fire and pretend that everything was fine.

Deep inside my head, I knew everything _wasn't_. When I'd come "home" alone, there had been questions, and my answers had been bated and muddled from shock. My eyes had prickled from unshed tears, and my hands were sticky from drying blood. When everything was explained, they'd said it wasn't my fault, that I couldn't have done anything. But now, seeing them all talking quietly, leaving me to my own tortured thoughts, I knew they thought different.

They couldn't throw me out of the group, could they? They _wouldn't_ do that, would they? I was Max's secondhand man, and we needed each other. Or would I _leave_? Maybe I won't be able to take this, as I was already feeling outcast. . . .

My family had always teased me, calling me "The Emo Kid". That was practically my label. Tonight I honestly felt depressed enough to take a knife to my wrist, but not now, in front of the kids. Maybe if I left them. Maybe later.

I turned over, and grabbed a blanket from our ratty, old couch. This was our new home: an abandoned cottage, in the middle of the woods. We'd had to scavenge for stuff to fill the house of stuff that hadn't been already abandoned inside. The blanket I was now curled under was stinky, filthy and ugly-looking, but it was soft and warm, and it provided a nice metaphor for our family life. We all, as a whole, may be stinky, filthy and ugly, but we all dearly loved each other . . . or used to.

I finally caught someone's eye. Angel. She was gazing at me, so I offered my best smile; something rare. She stared at me a moment, and I realized that she was reading my mind. Was Max making her, because she didn't trust me anymore?

I hadn't cried in forever, and yet I found salty tears running down my face.

My world was dying.

And Nudge—well, she was already dead.

* * *

Continue? Yes, no, maybe so? If you want me to, tell me so and I'll write another chapter. And another, and another, and another. . . .

This is basically a Fang + angst story. No flames please, just because I killed off your favorite character. I had to do it, and it was between Nudge and Iggy. And I didn't want it to be Iggy. So tell me if you like it, please--review style.

Toodles!

-Faba


	2. Chapter 2

I got up quietly, and felt my way across the room to the wooden door. It creaked when I opened it, but I was the only one awake. I slipped out and closed the door behind me.

Outside, the moon was bright and full, gleaming against the dark sky. I felt like everything was my fault. I was so afraid that this wasn't a dream that I couldn't let myself fall asleep; what if I woke up in the morning and it hadn't been a dream? Then I was sure I'd lose it.

Behind me there was a movement, and I looked over my shoulder to see a pale-faced Angel peering at me from behind the door's corner. In one swift movement, she was in my lap, hugging me around the middle. I was so shocked that all I could do was pat her back as she stifled her sobs.

"Fang," she asked me, "Nudge is really gone, isn't she?"

I could have sworn my heart melted. Right there. "I'm so sorry, Ang. I-I—"

"I just can't believe it. We've been through so much that . . . it just seems so weird that. . . ."

"I understand," I whispered.

"And I know that you didn't do it on purpose," Angel said. "There _was_ nothing you could have done—"

"Because I was too late. If I'd watched her more carefully then she might be . . . alive now."

I looked up past over Angel's head to stare at the moon. I felt her flinch. "Fang, if you'd gotten there is time then . . . you might _both_ be dead now. . . ."

My stomach twisted painfully and I turned my head back to Angel. She would never say it out loud, but I knew that she was relieved that it was only one of us instead of both of us.

"Or maybe," I murmured, "she would be alive and I wouldn't. I wish with all my heart that had been me."

Angel stared at me intensely. "But it wasn't."

"And I'll never forgive myself," I muttered, giving her my own intent look.

"But that will never change," she said, "and you need to get over it. You're not leaving us, and we're not gonna make you leave. We still love you, Fang—"

"Don't try to convince me Max is happy," I snapped.

"Of course Max isn't happy," Angel said. "None of us are. She's mad at you, herself and Nudge for being so stupid and leaving you while you were sleeping. She's fighting a war in her own head, Fang. Give her time."

"Things will never be the same," I said dully.

"We all know that, Fang." She turned her head up to the moon, too, and then looked down. "Nudge is happy where she is. She still loves us _and_ you, too. She always will. I just know it."

"Then how come I feel like I'm dying?"

"You're not dying, Fang," said Angel seriously, "you're just growing up."

She was right. I knew that. But I still ached. Would I ache forever?

"You're a very wise little girl," I told her, and she gave me a weak smile.

"Come back inside," she said. "Tell me a bedtime story. And _stay_ inside. Don't leave, Fang."

"Okay," I said, but I couldn't promise anything. And when she heard me thinking that, her little face lost more color.

* * * * *

When I woke, I found Max primping the kids and running around spastically. I cocked my head but stayed silent until she noticed me there. She jumped.

"I hate when you do that," she griped.

"Sorry," I said. "What's up?"

Max gave me a fleeted glance, and threw a bag around her shoulder. "We're leaving."

I wasn't expecting that. "Leaving, why? We've just settled down here. That's what everyone wanted—"

"Suddenly," she said spitefully, "I can't stand it here anymore."

And that one statement hurt more than anything. I nodded.

"So we're going to do what we did last time," she said hurriedly, moving around again. "We're going to adventure the world and then, if we're lucky enough, we'll find some place other place to settle down. . . ."

"But, Max," Gazzy said, "we could always go back to your mom."

I saw Max's face flicker with the desire, but she didn't falter. "I don't think I could face my mom just yet, Gazzy," she told him, ruffling up his hair. "I just think we all need some alone time to work things out before we run to the grown-ups." She turned her eyes to me. "Don't ya think, Fang?"

I nodded slowly. "Whatever you say, Max. You're the leader." I hated being spiteful, but hey, she was being spiteful to _me _first.

Quickly, before they all took off, I grabbed my own bag and scooped up Total, who was being unnaturally quiet. I figured he was in shock and comfortingly stroked his ears. I just hoped he wouldn't expect it as some sort of given from then on.

I let everyone else take off first, and then I did a hasty up-and-away that hurt my wings. Unfolding them to soon, I struggled to let them catch the wind and coasted momentarily, then I surged them upward and joined everyone else.

"Where're we headed to?" I asked no one in particular.

Max debated silently, and then Angel said simply, "Maine."

Max didn't say anything as I'd expected her to. It made me realize that she figured anywhere was better than here, and I almost agreed. There was one thing I had to ask, although I knew the answer.

"Where's Nudge?" I said quietly, and Max snapped her head in my direction.

For a moment, her wings didn't move and she missed a beat. But after she'd recovered, she said, "What is that, Fang? Some sort of sick _joke_?" She started trembling and then she took off like a bullet, moving at more than two hundred miles an hour.

I guess I had my answer. So yesterday hadn't been a dream.

* * * * *

"Fang!" someone shrieked, pushing me from my sleep. I did a quick 360⁰, now completely awake, and a thought hit me hard; Nudge wasn't here.

There was another strangled yell so, heart pumping, I leaped into the air and unfurled my wings as fast as I could. I couldn't tell where the yells were coming from, so I went by natural instinct and hoped vainly that it would lead me to Nudge.

And it did. But I was too late.

Surrounded by Flyboys, Nudge looked terrified. She was bloodied and battered, and yet she was still trying to hold her own. She screamed my name one last time before seeing me racing toward her. The relief that lit her face was heart-breaking.

I flew into the fray and tried to motion over the noise to do an up-and-away, but Nudge shook her head very slowly. Very sadly. I didn't have time to react because, just then, I saw her eyes roll in the back of her head as a Flyboy cuffed her sharply on the head.

All I remembered after that was a lot of blood—a whole lot of blood and Nudge, looking so innocent, as she disappeared beneath a swarm of metallic bodies.

"Nudge!" I shouted hysterically.

She didn't answer.

Agony.


End file.
